Manifest, with tea
by analine
Summary: Jack, Ianto, a rainy day, tea, and that which should be obvious. Jack/Ianto. One-shot; fluff.


**Title:** Manifest, with tea  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Jack/Ianto  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** some not-so-graphic sex; no spoilers  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~1,210  
><strong>Summary:<strong>Jack, Ianto, a rainy day, tea, and that which should be obvious.

**Notes:**It's been raining since yesterday, and I was in the mood for some rainy day fluff. ^_~ It turns out that Sariagray has been having the same problem, so this is for her. :)

* * *

><p>"Sometimes I think I'd just like a nice cup of <em>tea<em>, you know?" Ianto grumbles to the coffee maker, as he listens to it gurgle out what must be its third pot today.

They haven't even made it to _lunch _yet. He sighs.

"I heard that!" Jack calls down from the stairs, before he pokes his head around the corner and frowns .

"You thinking of switching us to tea, now? Is that it?"

Jack flashes him a high-wattage grin that makes Ianto's heart beat a tiny bit quicker in his chest. He turns away from Jack and starts fiddling with the cups, straightening them in a neat row in front of him so that his hands have something to do.

"It's cold, and rainy, and when it's cold and rainy sometimes it puts me in the mood for a nice hot cup of something other than coffee, that's all," he states calmly.

Jack raises his eyebrows.

Ianto rolls his eyes.

He clears his throat uncomfortably a moment later because Jack is staring at him, and it's starting to make him squirm in his shoes.

And then the coffee maker beeps, dramatically, and Jack turns to head back to his office.

"Coffee's ready," Ianto mutters, and lets out the breath he's been holding.

* * *

><p>"How could you possibly be surprised that I like <em>tea<em>?" Ianto says softly, threading his fingers through Jack's hair, and shrugging the comforter up a little closer around his bare shoulders. "I'm _Welsh_."

Ianto's had this whole thing covered for a while, the whole dynamic, lying in his bed with Jack, idle chat, all of it - no surprises anymore - but when Jack leans forward and presses their noses together, Ianto's heart practically leaps from his chest, the gesture is so tender, and unexpected.

This is new, and he's really not used to it.

He's not sure what to do with this Jack, with the Jack who sends the entire team (including Ianto) home early, and then somehow beats him to his flat, only to surprise him with some of the most atrocious tea he's ever tasted, fresh brewed and steaming in his favorite mug.

Jack claimed to have acquired it halfway across the galaxy, on his latest trip to the stars, and Ianto figures he can't really complain, especially considering that Jack had had him panting and moaning into the couch cushions before he'd really had a chance to think all that hard about it.

And now, Ianto finds that he's really not used to this either, to the tenderness of Jack's touch, to the warmth of his fingers moving over his skin, the way they linger on bruises here and there, demanding to know which of them were the result of some of their more acrobatic escapades in the hothouse last week, and which had been genuinely acquired in the line of duty.

"It's unavoidable," Ianto tells him, wincing when Jack presses his fingers a little too hard against his hipbone, where a long string of bruises are still in the process of turning purple-grey.

It's been two weeks since the incident involving a partially submerged Arcadian transport off Flat Holm Island - there'd been a storm that night; it'd been impossible for him to keep his footing on the deck of the Sea Queen as it lurched and pitched in the darkness. Ianto's surprised the marks are still around, really.

"Besides, I bruise easily, you know that," he reminds Jack, gently.

"I know," Jack says, and with one swift movement, he throws back the covers, and shimmies down the planes of Ianto's chest to place a soft kiss against the tender skin of his hip bone.

Ianto's heart stutters in his chest. He swallows, and wonders what's coming next.

Jack nuzzles at Ianto's belly button with his nose, letting tiny exhilarating little huffs of breath out against the fine hairs there. Ianto's cock twitches in response, and Jack chuckles.

Outside his flat, Ianto can hear the rain, dull and steady against the windows.

He waits.

Jack's fingers trace the muscles of his groin, down below his stomach, between his legs. He swells with desire. It builds in his chest too, heart pounding, blood pumping, wanting more, needing more - wanting to be full of everything, all at once.

"What do you want?" Jack asks, his voice quiet, as if he's taking care not to disturb this mood that's hovering here, somewhere between the rain falling outside and their bodies.

Ianto listens to the raindrops beating their soft rhythm against the windows, and considers the possible benefits of losing himself in these sensations - breathing deeply, arching up into Jack's touch. Burying his fingers in Jack's hair, and pushing Jack down, closer, just where he wants him, so that he can lose himself in all of this for a while.

Jack's lips close around Ianto's cock, and Ianto hisses, fingers curling into Jack's hair.

And then Jack's cheeks hollow out, and his fingers grip Ianto's hips tightly. His thumbs carefully avoid the bruised flesh at first, but when Jack's head starts to bob up and down, and his throat tightens, his thumbs tighten too, around the sensitive skin, and there's a flash of heat, of pain, before it all blurs and fades into gorgeous oblivion.

* * *

><p>Later, they're in the kitchen, and Jack's making tea - proper tea, no trans-galactic herbal infusion this time.<p>

He sidles up to Ianto who is staring forward in front of the cupboards, so distracted by the sight of Jack's bare chest poking out from the folds of his robe that he can't remember for the life of him why he's standing here. Looking for something, probably.

Jack rests his hand on Ianto's hip as he reaches around him to open the cupboard door. His touch is familiar and a little possessive and it makes Ianto think of bruises and Jack's mouth on his cock. He shivers, just a little, at the memory. He's glad he decided on pajama bottoms.

"I wasn't really surprised about the tea," Jack says, pulling out a tin of earl grey from behind a row of mugs. "I just needed an excuse to get you alone."

Ianto turns in surprise. "I hardly think you need an excuse for that."

"Don't I?"

"You're my boss, Jack."

"And if I wasn't?"

Ianto just sighs, and hands Jack his mug, already filled with the correct portion of milk, and honey. He meets Jack's eyes, and tries to ignore the fact that his heart is pounding so hard in his chest he's sure the neighbors must be able to hear it.

"I think that much should be obvious."

"Hmm," Jack says, his back to Ianto, as he pours the steaming water over the tea leaves, and Ianto doesn't know what to say, because he's not sure if he's used to this Jack either. The Jack that walks into his kitchen wearing Ianto's robe and somehow knows where everything is even though Ianto swears he's never shown him.

It should be alarming, but it's not, it's just…

"Jack?"

Jack turns to him mid-pour, and Ianto's stomach flips, just a little.

"It _is _obvious, isn't it?"

* * *

><p><strong>end<strong>


End file.
